One of His Favorite Days
by Aeilde Light
Summary: The teachers of Hogwarts all seem to be having trouble today... This is just a one shot story.


Flitwick sat in his office, waiting for his morning tea to steep. He was never quite fully awake until he had his cup of peppermint infused drundleberry tea at least half gone. Once the brew had reached the light pink color he preferred it at, he smiled and lifted it to his lips. He sipped the tea and let it sit in his mouth, noting that it was a bit hotter than usual…and growing hotter still…and getting spicy! So spicy! Flitwick quickly spat out the tea and charmed some water into his cup, gulping it down greedily. He eyed the tea pot, wondering if Pomona had given him the wrong dried herbs in her rush.

Across the campus and in the highest tower Professor Trelawny was glancing around her room aghast; all her beautiful crystal balls were gone and in their place were some hideous black balls with the number eight on top in a white circle. She frowned, wondering if the divine energies had transformed them all in order to tell her something, but try as she might, she could not find a way to attach significance to the number eight, or the color black. She picked one up, frustrated, and asked aloud, "What does this mean?!" to her surprise, the ball was not completely spherical, and had a flat bottom. She turned it over to see something slowly rising to the surface of the ink-dark liquid inside. She bought the ball closer to her face and read, "Try asking again later."

Severus Snape was waking and getting ready for the day. He rose from his bed and began to get dressed. He reached for his wardrobe groggily and pulled out everything he would need for the day, laying it out on his bed, one on top of the other. As he turned away, something caught his eye; a flash of color. Severus paused, furrowing his brow. Everything he owned to wear was black. Except for his white under-drawers…he turned back toward his bed and his jaw grew slack in shock and disgust. His underwear was pink. Bright pink. He scowled deeply and went back to his wardrobe, searching for an appropriate pair, cursing under his breath, then swore loudly upon finding all pairs of his underwear the same brilliant color as the first. For a moment, Snape suspected some ill begotten, rogue student, but he reassured himself of all the spells and locks he placed on his door when away to prevent such things. No, it must have been the ruddy house elves, they must've tossed in his white wash with the colors. Snape grumbled to himself as he pulled on a pair of the pink boxer-shorts, trying to remember how he might best change their color back later, when he had the time.

Professor Sprout had woken up early that morning to get some replanting done in the green houses before breakfast, and had arrived to find an odd plant on one of the counters, one she had never seen before and had certainly not been there the previous evening. It had broad blue leaves and milky white flowers that seemed to sparkle. Upon closer inspection, the flowers had little metallic flecks on them that caught the light and tossed it back. Pomona frowned and tilted her head, trying to puzzle out the strange plant. She touched on of the leaves and found it felt almost waxy to the touch, but not quite. She tried to snap off one of the leaves, but found it near impossible. Her frown deepened. She brought out her clippers and cut one off and smelt the cut edge to get any sort of clue as to what the plant was, but there was no smell. In fact, the plant looked as though it either had no liquid in the part where she had cut, or that it had somehow quickly sealed the wound. She tried to pull off a petal, but found that, it too, would not come off and felt almost like a light fabric to the touch. She yanked harder and a whole ring of petals came off in her hand, four petals touching at the base with a circle in the center where the stamen was on the flower. Professor Sprout sent most of the rest of the day wondering what kind of plant it was, unaware that it was, in fact, a fake plastic plant.

Minerva, on the other hand was wondering where on earth that damn noise was coming from. She had already disheveled her entire office, moved every piece of furniture, and cast discerning spells every which way to try and find the source of that whistling. It wasn't as though the noise was loud per se, but over time, she felt it was driving her mad. She couldn't concentrate on grading her students work and felt like she was reaching her wits end. She took a deep breath and stopped closing her eyes, listening intently. There. It was definitely coming from over there. She approached the source slowly, keeping her ears tuned, but as she drew nearer to where she had just been sure the source was, the noise seemed to not be emanating from there at all, and now seemed to be coming from behind her. She scowled deeply. She was too good of a witch to let this damn noise best her, and she would find it and stop without anyone's help, no matter how long it took!

Dumbledore stood in his office, looking out the window, smiling to himself. He glanced over at Fawkes who gave him a small, but melodious chirrup. Sitting on Albus' desk was a small flip calendar, one with a silly cartoon on each page. The date read April first.


End file.
